The Firedragon
George T. Philibin
George T. Philibin
Experiments on Nature’s family prove interesting and even fruitful. Yet, as we experiment on her, she experiments on us! Testing us and watching us for the next fools who tamper with her offspring.
Are you familiar with the hum of insects? You must hear them sometimes because insects out-number humans by an almost incalculable factor. I hear them every day, sometimes feel them on my skin, and feel their air-currents when they are buzzing close to me. You see, I’m an Entomologist, and I have been studying insects since high school. In grade school, a lone spider (arthropod not really an insect) scared every girl as it dangled in the air on the end of its silk line. Since that day, insect have fascinated me because something so small, a spider, could scare so many girls who were thousands of times its size.
I collected insects in jars. Fireflies, one of my favorite, of course, spiders, and bees and even earthworms found a home in my room upstairs. My room became alive with buzzing, but my older sister didn’t like my roommates. One day I heard her say to mom, “Please make him get those bugs out of his room!” Mom gave in a little to her, but I managed to keep the fireflies and some of the dead specimens.
I got even with my older sister: The old frog in the big sister purse trick!
My interest in insects pushed me into biology and chemistry, and after years of study, I received a PhD in Entomology. However, I continued my schooling and received a degree in Genetic Engineering six-months after getting my PhD.
I wanted to be in research and felt that additional schooling would impress those who read my resume. It worked. Also my blue-eyed, blond-hair, slim wife, Janet, a grade school teacher, supported me through-out my studies without complaining. And when Eric, our son, was born and the apartment turned into confusion, she remained cheerful and encouraging. A great wife who said, “We’re lucky, Kevin, very lucky. I have a good teaching job, you’re brilliant, our Eric is healthy and already ahead of himself, and the dog doesn’t piss on the floor. He scratches to go out. What more could we want?”
Without my great wife, life might not be so fulfilling.
I received a phone call one day from a research foundation, and I can still here the good news given and, of course, welcomed by me. “I’m Ron Snyder with North American Biology Research. Is this Dr. Kevin Monett?”
“Yes,” I said.
“We read ‘Habits and Chemistry and their Interaction on Dragonfly Genetics.’ We understand that you wrote that paper?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Good. Would you be willing to meet with us? We have a position that fits your qualifications, and I must say that many of our associates think highly of your paper.”
“Yes I would,” I answered. “I heard of your foundation and know about many of your accomplishments in Genetics. In fact, I used Dr. Allison Parker’s book on Genetic Matrixes. Is she still there?” I said.
“Yes she is. She was ecstatic with your paper,” Ron said.
“I’m very interested in your offer!” I said.
After a few more pleasantries, Ron gave me a date and time for the interview; he ended the phone called with, “I’m very much looking forward to meeting you.”
After I hung up the phone, Janet asked, “Who was it?”
I told Janet the details
“Honey that’s wonderful! Pure research is just as good as a government grant, isn’t is Honey?” Janet asked.
“Better,” I added. “I’ll be associated with many top Entomologist who share my interest.”
“It‘s about time someone took notice of my curly haired blue-eyed husband, and don’t worry Kevin, I can easily get another teaching job with my specialty.”
The rest of the evening my thoughts switched between genetic codes and the phone call that I had received. Finally, after not being able to concentrate on my work any longer, I turned off the computer and turned on the late show.
I needed work after my schooling: Large student loans hovered over me, but I did find work.
However, the position wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but the salary was good: I got a job with a pesticide company. I had my own small laboratory and an assistant and the freedom to do research but only on pesticides, and that research I found routine. And my assistant--- who just had a bachelor’s--- liked to swat flies all day. We shared little in common except our love for the Pittsburgh Steelers. And I hated the company’s name: “Bugs-Away.”
While at Bugs-Away I submitted my resume to many prestigious research centers----any other place had to be more prestigious than Bugs-Away----but I had no luck in obtaining a better position or in getting a government grant.
I met Ron Snyder and his assistant, Donald Roams, in a small conference room at the Holiday Inn. The fresh smell from leather chairs encouraged me as we shook hands, and I felt an iron grip wrap itself around my hand, but Ron’s smile was fatherly, and his auburn hair held no trace of gray, yet Ron must have been close to sixty.
“At last I meet the young man who Allison has been raving about. She shows your paper to everyone. You would think she was back in kindergarten with her enthusiasm, but believe me, she is one of the top brains in Genetics,” Ron said.
“We are very fortunate to have her and our other associates,” Donald added as I felt a weak hand grab mine, but his nervous simile and eyes that darted back and forth led me to believe that Donald had not been in on many interviews.
“I used some of her theories and I agree she is brilliant. Her book is becoming the Bible on Genetics from what I hear,” I said.
“Yes it is. Allison and some of our other associates have made North American Biology Research into what it is today. Kevin, it’s the people we get. Our hiring is based largely on input from our current staff and believe me--- we look for and recruit only the best,” Ron said as he sat down.
“Please Kevin, have a seat,” Ron added.
“To get down to business, we are offering you twice the salary that you receive at Bugs-Away. We get our funding from the Federal and state governments, some from Canada, grants from many universities and private colleges and corporations, but recently we have been receiving consultation fees for specific research, which isn’t our main objective,” Ron said.
“I heard that you concentrate on pure research,” I said.
“We do, but the consultation fees are becoming a significant part of our budget, and the board feels that that income should not be lost,” Ron said.
“A number of our associate volunteer for those special assignments. We know our people well. They are very good but, some need direction and a challenge to bring out their best,” Donald added.
The room felt cooler after Ron’s last remark, and I started to relax.
“I have some questions,” I said.
“Feel free to ask anything,” Ron said.
“Will I have an expense account, and can I turn in travel vouchers?” I asked.
“Yes, you will have an expense account, but travel has to be approved by me,” Ron
said
“I concentrate on Dragonflies----will I be able to continue my research on them?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ron said. “Your interest in Dragonflies and their genetic code is one of the reasons we recruited you. As you must know already, you direct your own research.”
“How many weeks of vacation will I receive?” I asked.
“Four weeks a year and we celebrate nine paid-holidays and you’ll have five personal floating holidays,” Ron added. “We also let our associate come and go as they please, we don’t have a rigid nine to five schedule but we always have a morning meeting a nine.
“Our reputation is a good one. We spend million on equipment and we have some of the best equipped laboratories in the world. I’m sure you know that from the magazine American Scientific Advances which has featured us.”
“Yes I do,” I answered. “I subscribe to it.”
“Good,” Ron said.
I listened as Ron described the facilities, the grounds, and the plans for future
development at North American Biology Research and realized one thing: They had the money!
“We are constantly building new additions and wings and have two new buildings in the bid process now,” Donald added.
“You’re located in the Eastern part of the state?” I asked
“Yes,” Ron said. “Below the Pocono’s, not far from New York or Philadelphia.”
As Ron continued, Donald looked over at Ron and would shake his head up and down whenever Ron emphasized what Donald thought was a good point. Donald’s dark rimmed glasses matched his hair, and he reminded me of a guy that should have been lived in the fifties, especially with the way he combed his hair back in a wave.
“Of course,” Ron said, “all you research will belong to North American Biology. That is standard practice throughout the industry which I’m sure you know. But, we do give very liberal bonuses as Allison and some of the others will testify to.”
“I understand your position completely,” I said. That was a small point as far as I was concerned especially with the salary and other benefits and the prestige I would receive
“We would be happy to give you a tour sometime if you feel any reservation---that can be arranged,” Donald added.
“Housing is no problem and we have good relations with local banks and lending institutions,” Ron said. Donald added, “My brother has a real estate company and he has helped out many of the new associates.”
I had already made up my mind before the interview
With a great feeling of accomplish I said, “I accept.”
“Congratulations!” Ron said as he raised himself up and shook my hand again.
“Yes,” Donald said as he sprang up and grabbed my hand after Ron finished.
“We want you to start a month from now. If you need more time, let me know,” Ron added.
Who would not take an offer like that one? It wasn’t a large government grant but better. Independent research, a great salary and an expense account. My years of study paid off and I thought back to the time when I had decided to become a high school biology teacher, but Janet kept saying, “Kevin, there’s much more in you than teaching, I know it.”
I left Janet pick out our first house, and like Donaled said, the Real Estate Company that he mentioned handled everything.
Bugs-Away gave me some time off---they had no choice because I had accumulated vacation--- but they acted as if they were doing me a big favor. Within a month we had moved and were settling in.
In the lobby of North American Biology, a guard--retired marine by his hair cut and solid build--sat behind a small desk directly in line with the front doors, and he looked up as I entered.
“May I help you, sir,” he asked.
“I’m Dr. Kevin Monett to see Ron Snyder,” I answered.
Without changing his expression, he picked up a phone and said, “Dr. Kevin Monett for Mr. Snyder.”
After hanging up the Phone he pointed to a large couch and said, “Have a seat please, someone will be down.
The lobby was smaller then I first thought. Abstract paintings aligned the walls strategically in order to create a feeling of depth and vastness. Plants and the sounds of water running gave a fresh smell that also suggested quiet and pleasant surroundings.
And the lights were adjusted with enough brightness to see, but not enough to reflect of the walls or compete with sunlight that entered through sky-lights that were tinted a grayish brown.
I became lost in one of the abstract painting but was jerked back to reality with, “Allison Parkson--nice to meet you. We heard that you would be here today, and I am pleased that administration listened to us when recruiting.”
The guard, hearing another voice, focused both of his eyes on Allison like two lasers beam tracking a target. But his stared wasn’t offensive, far from it.
“After reading your paper and showing it to some of our colleagues, we realized that you stumbled onto a method that might help in Gene Splicing. And your suggestion that heredity can give results after one generation when the host is subjected to multiple extreme stimuli----well, you belong here! We all came to that conclusion together. May I call you Kevin? We’re not formal around here,” Allison said.
“Yes, please do,” I said.
“And I’m Allison,” Allison added. “Follow me, I’ll show you around but first you’ll have to see Ron. I’m sure he has some forms for you the sign,” Allison said.
Follow Allison I would any day. She might be a top geneticist, but the final results of perfect Genetic Engineering on a female would have to be Allison! Her hair a reddish-brown that could not be surpassed in beauty by the master painters, and her tight but flexible walk driven by a body that could fill the front cover of Playboy and increase its sales a hundred-fold, told me that I had better not mention her to Janet. Working long hours with her in a laboratory might not be the perfect setting that Janet had envisioned.
“Kevin! Come in!” Ron said as he rose from his chair. “ This will only take a few minutes. I’m sure you want to see the laboratories.”
I signed five forms that I had already read at home, and I could feel Allison‘s presence.
“That’s all I need. We have a meeting at nine today which is routine but please try to make it,” Ron said.
His office didn’t fit him. His desk, a glass top held up by four metal legs didn’t have any draws, and the rest of his office seemed bare. Too bare, I thought, because a couch resting against one wall and two chairs in front of his desk were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. No filing cabinet, no computer, and no pictures hanging on the walls.
As Allison led me to my lab, we stopped twice for Allison introduced me to other researchers, but their eyes always scanned Allison before they found me. The hallways had painting hanging every ten feet or so, and a very good type of commercial carpeting made me feel as if I were gliding down the hallways instead of walking. And the temperature seemed uniform though-out the building with no variations that I could feel.
“I’m sure that you are interested in Cybernetics, Kevin?” Allison said.
“Yes, I am, but I’ve never worked in that field,” I answered.
“Then you’re in for a real treat,” Allison said. “John Altman has made some major breakthroughs in bioelectronics as you’ll see.”
Allison entered Altman’s lab and said, “I want to introduce you to Dr. Kevin Monett. Kevin’s the one I told you about and Ron got him.
I felt a warm and sweaty hand grab mine and heard, “Pleased! I’m sure.”
“Can you demonstrate Kitty for Kevin?” Allison asked
“Why, yes I can. Follow me. My assistant is inspecting his implants now,” John said.
John reminded me of a walking tree as he led the way into a warm room that sounded like a pet store with the scampering of small feet in cages. Most of the animals were rodents, but in one cage a cat ---not a domesticated one but possibly a bobcat--- sat silent as his eyes tracked our every move.
“Chris, place kitty on the floor,” John said as he picked up what looked like a model flying airplane control box. As John towered over us, I realized that this tall, lanky brown-haired person who obviously needed a hair cut was very weird!
“See the computer chip on top of the rodent’s head?” Allison asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“It interfaces with certain areas of the rodent’s brain,” Allison added.
The white rat sat still. John adjusted some settings, then walked over to Allison and me.
“Now, watch this,” John said.
When John pushed the joy-stick forward, the rat walked straight ahead. When John reversed the joy-stick, the rat walked backwards.”
“I seen films and read about these experiments, but never witnessed one,” I said.
“I can make Kitty do many things! Watch,” John said.
John moved the Joy-stick around in a circle and Kitty walked around in a circle.
John made the rat sit up, lay down, move sideways, and sit up on it’s hind legs!
“What do you think, Kevin,” Allison asked.
“That’s fascinating,” I said. “I never thought that so many motions could be controlled by a chip.
“Our next experiment will have Kitty mate under a controlled state. However, I have more work to do in that area. Sometime we play around with him and try to get him to move a slow as possible, then run. Our research has drawn much interest from the medical field,” John added.
“I can see why,” I added. “Possible help for stroke victims.
“Exactly,” John said.
After Allison and I left, Allison said, “John has no degrees and very little formal schooling. He’s self taught and a little weird but we all love him around here. You will too when you get to know him better, but believe me it takes time.
I had no argument with Allison about that one.
“He holds ten patents and is very wealthy from them. He came to us one day and
everybody here--including me---laughed! But Ron must have saw his potential, and within a short time, we realized that John was no joke.
“I’m a little older than you Kevin, and have been out of college longer. I’ve learned one important fact and John is the proof: Never underestimate someone’s potential. Ron knows that; maybe his years as a personal manager taught him some things that I missed---- I’ve been focused on research so much that I don’t know much about other people. I certainly screwed up my life when it came to men, but, well---it was not a mistake when I demanded Ron to recruit you. I want you to know that and Ron agreed completely after interviewing you,” Allison said as we walked to my lab.
“Here’s your lab,” Allison said. “You’ll share it with Dr. David Niven and John Manning is the lab technician. What do you think?”
What I saw took my mind off Allison!
Languages are limited in capacity to describe feelings. Imagine waking up one Christmas morning at the age of nine and your parents take you to a mall filled with toy stores. Then they say, “We won the lottery and bought all those stores just for you!” That description is as close as I can come to when I try to explain the feeling I had looking into my new lab.
The laboratory was much larger than I had expected and filled with specialized equipment. Imagine a large hospital operating room, Radio shack, a computer outlet store and Star Trek all mixed together in a well lit auditorium that never ended!
Some of the equipment looked like bugs. One large analyzer of some type resting on a lab table looked like a praying mantis. And another instrument standing alone reminded me of a spider for it rested on eight legs that were bent half way. This was a lab, I thought, and I started to wonder how I lasted at Bugs-Away.
As I walked between two examining tables, Allison’s voice echoed, “I’ll let you get settled in. Already your moniker around here is Dragonfly. Mine is Genie, of course, and you’ll meet the others like Chromosome Man, Beetle Bailey, the Carnivorous Lady...and the Lygaeidae team.
“Remember we have a morning meeting at nine. Just go out this door, make a right and follow the red stripe on the floor. It will lead you to the upstairs conference room.”
Allison left. I opened my brief case and took out my paper on cross-fertilization and placed it on my desk, but I didn’t work on it for I wanted to look around the lab.
I thought how luck plays a big role in our lives. Yes it does! Sweat beads formed on my forehead because I almost didn‘t publish my paper, the one Allison had read, in American Scientific Advances.
#####
When Allison walked into the morning meeting, all eyes shifted towards her, even the other women present. But their eyes didn’t have the sparkle that beamed from the men‘s,
even Ron glance over with his fatherly smile.
The morning meeting reminded me of a head count, for in fifteen minutes it was over.
After Ron introduced me, I stood up, heard many “Welcomes” in various styles--some had foreign accents--and I shook hands with those near me.
Allison said with all eyes converging on her, “We are very fortunate to get Dr. Monett. I’m sure he would have been recruited by someone else soon.”
After the meeting ended, Allison walked me out--the room emptied like a fire-drill had sounded--and she said as an after thought, “Robert Stockwell is our research coordinator. He’s the guy you want to see for assistance. He knows who is working on this or that. We also give him a brief report when we start or finish a project and he enters that information in a database for reference by all. He’s very good at his job.”
I followed the red line back to my lab and once there punched in my access code.
Before the locked clicked open, I heard, “I’m David Niven--welcome aboard! They call me the firefly man around here, but recently I’ve shifted my research more to genetics.”
“That’s the approach I’m taking now,” I answered.
“Great, I see we think on the same wavelength.” David said.
Once in the lab, David said, “See that arrangement of test vats over there?”
I studied the arrangement then concluded: “I bet that makes good coffee!”
“Right, we do think on the same wavelength!” David added.
We talked and talked over a great cup of coffee, and two hours had passed before I realized the time. As David spoke he used his hands so much that at times I thought that he were dribbling a basketball. And his enthusiasm and dedication filled the lab and surrounded me, and that took all doubt away from me about whether I had made the right decision: I had! David stood eye level with me, and his black hair and slim but firm build reminded me of a school chum, Roy Huey, I once had in grade school. But my friend had moved away when we were in the sixth-grade, and I never heard from him again.
David switched the subject to Allison, “What do you think about Allison?”
“She could be a model or movie-star. I never would have thought that Dr. Allison Parker was her,” I answered.
“My wife, Jean, doesn’t like her. At last year’s Christmas party they met, and Jean kept asking me questions about her for two days. Finally I lied and told her that Allison was a Lesbian! That trick worked, I think.”
“That’s a good one! I’ll remember that if Janet ever gets weird about Allison,” I said as David laughed.
We talked some more until David said, “You and your wife are coming over for dinner tonight, understand? You are coming and that is that.”
David did remind me of Roy!. Remember the toy story? Try to think about a childhood friend, one that you would laugh with and hang around with. Now imagine that your childhood friend showed up at the mall that your parents had bought and said, “My dad won the other half of the ticket! Let’s get started!”
We went to David’s that night. The next night all four of us when out for dinner. And before long Jean and Janet were shopping together, and Jean got Janet to join a community organization that helps underprivileged children with their school work.
David and I became too involved with a project to spend much time on community functions. Two years later, we had a major breakthrough, but our success was mirrored by an accident. One of the contractors adding an addition to the building where my lab was located in, drilled a large hole from the outside of the building into my terrarium (a whole room that I had converted into a giant terrarium) where I kept live specimens.
An alarm went off in the terrarium; David and I ran to the terrarium and we saw a one-foot hole in the outside wall that invited my live specimen to escape.
We flew outside and David, who could ran faster than me, screamed, “Close up that hole! Close it!”
The construction worker looked puzzled then said, “It’s here on the prints! See! This is the Harvard Building, this is the North side, and this is section E where it’s marked to drill! What’s wrong?”
“We have live insect specimens in there! Cover that hole! They can’t get out! Do something!” I screamed but David had already picked up a tarp and held one end of it over the hole.
“It’s on the prints Buddy. Look for yourself. Maybe they made a mistake. Hey Mike! Grab that plywood, put it over the hole and drill in cement anchors then bolt the thing tight.”
“I’ll get the boss,” the construction worker said. “But look here. That wall is marked and the work cleared by the engineer... see? They told me to drill that hole!”
“Did you see anything fly out??” I asked.
“Nothing but some wasps or mosquitoes maybe. That’s all,” he said.
David helped the other construction work secure the plywood over the hole, but he had heard what the first worker said about the specimens getting out.
“Get Ron on this! We have big trouble,” David said.
I ran all the way to Ron’s office and told his secretary that I had to see him.
Ron listened without saying a word until I finished, then he asked, “You can testify that the construction worker drilled that hole?”
“Yes, David can too and the construction worker admitted to me and David that he was told to drill it by their engineer,” I answered.
Ron sat motionless but his eyes moved back and forth until he asked, “Please give me a report on you specimens and how they escaped and Kevin, thank you very much for telling me first. Don’t say anything about this, please.”
I gave Ron a report the next mornign, and I hoped that the escaped specimens died, but after a few weeks we discovered that they had thrived and live in the wooded areas that belonged to the center. Ron, with the approval of the board, called in Bugs-Away to spray the grounds around the center. However, the local police started getting reports about dragonflies that had burned some children, and a state road-worker swore that a dragonfly stung him with a beam of light!
Ron called me in and said, “I tried to keep a lid on this, but it’s becoming too serious. I have to notify the feds because we need their help. I can’t spray beyond our grounds legally, and some of the specimen are in the suburbs near schools and public parks. Your report suggests that they might be able to lay eggs. Have the specimens in your terrarium reproduced in any form?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Dave found larva this morning. They’re capable of reproduction similar to dragonflies.
“My God,” Ron said, then added, “You found larva! It’s worst than I thought!”
For the next few weeks, we hunted for the escaped specimens but had little luck. They moved often and must have swarmed together. Reports about strange fireflies came in and we investigated each one and interviewed the witnesses but had no luck in killing them. They were out there somewhere, and time was not on our side.
One night when leaving my lab, I phoned Janet and said, “Honey, Dave and me will be a little late.”
“How long will you be?” Janet asked.
“About a half-hour--that’s all,” I answered.
“Remember, you guys promised to take us out for dinner, and Jean and I are holding you two to your promise! The babysitter will be here soon and we are starved. Right Jean?” Janet said.
I heard Jean laughing in the background, then Janet added, “What’s been going on over there? We heard helicopters again today, and you’ve been coming home late all week. Is there something wrong?”
“No, just---some government---surveillance work. Terrorist watch and things like that,” I answered
“But you’ll be home in a half an hour?” Janet asked.
“We sure will,” I answered.
After Janet switched off the phone, she said to Jean, “Something’s up. I know Kevin, and something’s up over there.”
“You feel it too?” Jean said as she brushed her jet-black hair back over her shoulders.
“Yes, for the last couple of weeks. Something has been happening and the guys will not talk about it.” Janet added.
“Oh, I know what you mean. Doesn’t it drive you crazy? Both of them are acting like they got an F on their report cards and they don’t want to tell us,” Jean said as she looked into her compact and wiped a little makeup off her fair-complexioned skin.
“The boys are up to something,” Janet said.
“Well, it better not be Allison! You’ve met her, haven’t you?” Jean asked.
“Yes, but Kevin said that she is a lesbian. Is she?”
“I don’t buy into that lesbian thing that Dave so conveniently thought-up. I trust Dave, but I sure as hell don’t trust that Allison! I don’t like her. And I don’t care if she is some kind of genius!” Jean answered.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with her. Bugs-Away is here. That’s the company that Kevin worked at before here and they manufacture pesticide,” Janet said as she looked out the window.
“Dave didn’t say anything about a pesticide company. That’s strange. He always tells me what’s going on.” Jean said as she put her compact back in her purse.
Before long Kevin and David marched in.
“What’s wrong,” Jean asked.
“Something has come up. We’re going back to the lab after dinner. You girls ready yet?” Kevin said.
Earlier that day, Ron had some visitors; ones he didn‘t want. But the visitors came, and the visitors were not pleased with North American Biology Research.
“Responsibility does not rest with North American Biology Research. I intend to make that firm before any questions are answered. The contractor, Jefferson Industrial Design and Builders, who is licensed, bonded and insured in this state and who also meets federal guidelines as stipulated by our charter with the government, is solely responsible for this---mayhem. And may I add that North American Biology has always superceded state and federal directives regarding building codes and public safety as prescribed when engaged in research of this nature,” Ron Snyder said.
We’re here to investigate that and more. I’ll make the decision...” Tony Estavan a federal government agent stated to say.
“Our legal team has determined that we are...” Ron blasted out.
“Determine this! A God Damn bug of yours is flying around stinging the public! A large dragonfly looking thing that also glows! You get it? Your bug! Not some lawyer’s bug, not my bug---but your God Damned creation! That’s what this is all about! The bug! We don’t give a shit about whose fault it is! We want the bugs dead!” the government agent said.
“Of course, we are doing everything possible. We began spraying and have enlisted a pesticide company and...” Ron added.
“You bunch of wackos should have reported this sooner! Do you have any idea what an Ecological disaster is! Do you? I doubt it! And to think we help fund your foundation with taxpayer money!”
The government agent and his assistances stormed out of Ron’s office. Ron walked over to the window; he wiped off his forehead and looked out the window but saw nothing as he looked around the grounds that had much activity: Construction workers handling building material, three black birds feeding on the fresh cut lawn, and Allison walking who caught the attention of every construction worker as she held her files and computer
disks.
The escaped specimens might have eluded the foundation’s search, but at a small pond known for its fish, a grandfather and his two grandsons found something very unusual hovering over the lily-pads as they waited for a nibble on their lines.
“There’s more of them down there. What are they? Look---it shot something at that month and killed it!” Billy, one grandson said.
“See how they glow first before they shoot? Look! Man they are the coolest fireflies I ever seen!” the other grandson, Mickey, added.
“You boys stay away from them. I mean it! In all my years I have never seen the likes of that,” the boys’ grandfather, Chuck, said.
“Watch out! There’s one above your head,” Billy screamed.
Before Chuck had time to react, an odd flying insect discharged a thin red beam of light into his arm.
“Why that son-of-a-bitch!----He stung me! Get the nets!”
The boys started swatting at the flying insect with fishing nets, and Chuck flung his fishing pole at the dragonfly-looking thing that had just sapped him.
“Take that Darth Vaker,” Mickey yelled as he swung but missed the flying insect.
However, as the flying insect banked to avoid, Billy’s net found it before the insect’s sensed had time to react.
“Got him! I got him grandpa---look he’s trapped in the net! I got him!”
“Mickey, empty out that jar of fishing-bate and give it here!!” Chuck said.
“As the dragonfly-looking insect fought to escape, it glowed until a thin red beam shot out and penetrated the air for a moment: it’s entanglement angered it and it fired indiscriminately without being able to aim.
“You got him grandpa----let’s see if he can blast outa that jar?” Chuck said.
Again and again the dragonfly looking insect powered up and fired, but the thick glass jar held, however, each time it fired into the glass, it left a black spot on the inside of the jar.
“He’ll try again as soon as it rests up!!” Chuck said.
“Man--look at that thing!”
“Boy that’s the best firefly ever! And we caught it! Wait till I tell this in school!”
“Look at the mark it left on my arm! I’ve been stung worst by bees, but never been stung by something like that!
Let’s get home---I wanta get outa here--there’re too many of them flying around down by the lily-pads. They might gang-up on us,” Chuck said. “Besides I wanta show this thing to Jim that biology teacher! He thinks he knows everything, well let’s see if he ever seen one of these before!”
#####
At the restaurant, Janet and Jean were laughing together as their husbands smiled and made some small talk about the menu.
Jean was saying, “...and when Mr. Bloom gets some bad news about his New York store, he stand up after the phone call, and his hair raises a little, then he takes four step to his window, and---then he marches off to the bathroom! It’s always the same with the New York store, but when he gets some bad news about his...”
“Oh my God--! That must he hilarious!” Janet said.
“My gosh--- you can set you watch by his moves.” Jean added.
“That reminds me of a dog we had---every time he had to pee he when out the front door, but every time he had to do the other thing, he when out the back door,” Janet said.
As the girls talked and laughed, David and Kevin continued to smile and laugh a little as their wives tried to control themselves the best they could.
When they got themselves under control, Jean said, “Ok boys, did one of you guys step on some prize bug?”
“No----we didn’t step on one we...”
Kevin nudged David but realized it was all in vain.
“A swarm of them got away. It’ll be on the news soon, I’m very sure about that unless we catch them. But so far--no luck. We might as well tell you two: We are in it up to our necks!” David added.
“This is serious, isn’t it!” Janet said.
“Yes, but it’s not our fault--- yet in a way it is,” Kevin said.
“What do you mean,” Jean asked.
“Me and David formulated an experiment.”
“Was that Allison there too, I bet she was,” Jean asked.
“Yes, we used some of her work on genetics along with Dr. Miller and some others,” David said.
“She just has to be around all the time, doesn’t she, “Jean said.
“Jean, she is a top Geneticist. One of the best in the field. We need her in our research! That is all! As for her personal life---I don’t care! She’s brilliant!!” David said.
“Chill out Honey. I just don’t like her! ---Period!” Jean added.
“We created a new insect. Our experiment was approved by the foundation before we began. The new insect’s lava developed, and its mitosis and morphogenesis took place in
unparalleled time for such...” Kevin started to say.
“Guys, don’t give us that crap ...what about this new bug?” Jean asked.
After David and Kevin glanced at each other, Kevin said, “The new insect by our name is called... well its un-scientific name is Firedragon. It is a hybrid insect that we created by crossing a dragonfly and a firefly. When it senses a threat, it glows similar to a firefly calling a mate, but-- and we don’t know how it does it-- it can focus its light and beam it at the threat. And the beam can kill other insects and even chase away bats!
“However, it doesn’t exhibit---” Janet broke in with “Let me get this straight. You two have dreamt up a flying bug that has a laser beam?” Janet asked.
“Yes, the light is laser,” David added
“They got away. We had an accident one day and some of our Firedragons escaped. We haven’t been able to find them, and now the feds are up in arms because they feel these Firedragons of ours could cause an Ecological catastrophe. And you know, they might be right!” Kevin said.
“Good God! Is Allison in trouble too?” Jean asked.
“Like I said before, it’s not our fault but we have to do something and now. These Firedragons can reproduce. Soon there might be millions of them!” David said.
As the conversation during dinner turned serious, Chuck and Jim stood by the pond watching the Firedragons sap some insect.
“You see what I mean, Jim? They’re sapping at frogs and those other dragonflies and mosquitoes...” Chuck said.
“Yes, it’s getting dark and I can see them better,” Jim said.
“What the hell are they? It looks like some kind of light show----Christ I never heard of anything like this!” Jim said.
“Watch out--one’s over your head--don’t move. They must respond to movement. Stay still,” Jim whispered.
The Firedragon hovered above as Jim and Chuck stool motionless. It moved. Then it ascended. Then it banked left. Then it flew off towards the lily-pads.
“That was close,” Chuck said.
“Don’t get too...” Jim started to say.
“Hear those screams?” Chuck said. “They’re coming from behind that thicket.
As the screams heightened, Jim and Chuck darted towards the screams and once there, they saw a group of kids who were trying to catch fireflies trapped and screaming in the middle of a swarm of Firedragons near the other side of the pond.
“Oh my God---take off your jacket and swat the damned things!” Jim screamed.
A mother stood frozen with her hands over her mouth and two girls clinging to her, as the Firedragons powered-up and sapped at the screaming children.
“Get out--run back up the path--get away from the pond!” Jim screamed. “Run! “Don’t look back! Run up the trail--get the kids outa here!”
“Ouch!,” Jim screamed after on sapped him.
Some of the boys started to run, but the girls screamed and clung to the woman, and the Firedragons seemed to get more excited with the commotion.
“Jim, cover the woman with your jacket and push her up the trail if you have to.” Chuck screamed.
One boy dressed in bib-overhauls with a cowboy hat on didn’t run. He stayed and fought the Firedragons by swinging his jacket and knocking them down on the ground where he munched them under his shoes. It seemed like he was having fun because he kept saying, “Take that you alien invader! Death to all aliens! Die! Die!” His thick overhauls and cowboy hat with a long sleeve shirt on protected him from the beams, somewhat. But he did get stung and that seemed to enrage him and caused him to swat at the FireDragons harder.
“Cover yourselves---they can’t sting throught a jacket!” Chuck screamed.
As the woman still holding the girls started up the trail, most of the Firedragons flew back over the lily-pads; Jim and Chuck trotted back to the other side hoping to draw the few remaining Firedragons away.
As the Firedragons settled over the lily-pads, the boy in bib-overhauls stool motionless.
“Get outa there!” Chuck yelled.
The boy stared at Chuck but didn’t move.
“They must be territorial. Look how they group over the lily-pads. What the hell are they? That was light that stung us! A ray of some type just like the one in the jar!” Jim said.
“Run up and tell the woman to call 911!” Jim yelled.
The boy stood still.
“Maybe he got stung and he’s in shock.” Chuck said.
“He doesn’t look like he’s in shock---in fact I think he’s laughing!” Jim said.
“Yes he is.”
“What the hell’s he doing now?” Jim asked.
The boy squatted down and laughed. He took something out of his pocket, held it in his hand and said something to it, then moved his other hand over it back and forth. After the ritual, he flicked it and a flame danced upwards: a lighter!
“What the hell are you doing!” Jim screamed.
“I’m agona kill the invaders and save the world!” the boy said.
“Don’t--it hasn’t rained for a month! This valley will go up like a furnace!” Jim screamed.
But before Jim’s last word stopped echoing, the boy ignited some dry leaves near the pond. Then he lit some twigs, then more leaves then more and more....”
“Christ, look at that imbecile! Stop you idiot! Stop!” Chuck screamed.
Chuck’s screams were in vain, for the boy kept repeating, “Death to the invaders!” as he continued to set fires.
In a few brief moments, trees caught on fire and their flames spread to other trees.
“Let’s get up the trail! It’s no use to try to stop ‘em! That kid is nuts!” Jim said.
In the parking lot at the top, the girls still clung to the woman as she screamed into her cellphone.
“Let me see that sting,” Jim said.
A girl crying raise her arm up to Jim.
“Where’s Eugene? Where’s Eugene? Did anyone see Eugene? Please---find Eugene!
He’s slightly retarded!” the women said to chuck. “He must still be down there! Eugene! Eugene!! Eugene!!!” the woman pleaded.
“We couldn’t get him to come up. He set the fires down there. We tried but he ran around the pond!” Jim said.
“The burn doesn’t look too serious---let’s go back and drag that kid up!” Jim said.
“Holly-Mother-of-Marry! Feel that heat! It’s an inferno down there already!” Chuck said.
“My God! Eugene! Eugene...” the woman screamed.
As Jim and Chuck looked back down the path, Eugene walked past them and held his head very high.
Oh, thank God!--Eugene! What did you do!? Tell me Eugene! What did you do?” the woman asked.
Eugene said over and over again, “I won! I won! The space invaders are dead. The space invaders are dead. The president is going to give me a medal! The president is going to give me a medal!”
The sirens grew louder and Chuck directed everyone across the road.
The woman grabbed Eugene and said, “I told you not to play with fire! How many times did I tell you? Fire! Not Good! Why, Eugene! Why!
“Whatever they were they’ll never survive a fire-storm like that one,” Jim said.
“Maybe,” Chucked answered.
#####
Two years later with the government investigation still in progress, Ron heard some good news in a meeting when a government representative said, “North American Biology is not responsible. Our fact finding committee has unanimously agreed that Jefferson Industrial Design and Builders, is solely responsible. As it turns out, the contractor fired three general-foremen who had been familiar with you facility from previous work there. In their place, they hired a young engineer from a competitive company. As you might guess, this was a cost containment move. A real blunder if I may say so!
“Dr. Monett, you testified that these Firedragons were in secured confinement?” the investigator asked.
“Yes, we had them contained in a class one terrarium,” Kevin said.
“Our class one terrariums follow the government’s biological warfare procedures since no codes exist for terrariums,” Ron added.
“Yes, we know and congratulate you on your safety consciousness,” the investigator added.
David and Kevin felt warm. Ron wiped sweat from his forehead as the investigator read through a memo before him again and again.
The investigator stopped reading and thought for a second, then reread the memo once again.
“You are sure that these Firedragons are dead?” the investigator asked.
“We checked the pond and surrounding woodlands after the fire. No insect life could
have survived. The heat and oxygen depletion caused by the fire would have killed them all,” Kevin said.
“There have been no reports of them since the fire and that’s two years now,” David added.
“Can they travel far,” the investigator asked.
“They are similar to dragonflies and they can fly over long distances, we’re sure about that. We clocked then at thirty-miles per hours and watched them hover for hours at a time. We concluded that they can travel. How far---we estimate possibly hundreds of miles in a week,” Kevin added.
The investigator sat back in his chair, and thought long and hard about something.
Silence echoed in the room, and outside noise intensified as sweat-beads formed on Ron’s forehead. Kevin, David and Allison sat motionless but very much attentive to the slightest facial change on the investigator.
The investigator leaned forward, clasped his hands together in front of him and placed them on the table. He scanned everybody before him with equal attention, then said, “We will need your foundation’s help Mr. Snyder. Will you give us your full cooperation in
another matter that might be related to these Firedragons?”
“What is needed, if I may ask?” Ron said with a perplexed look.
“I received the results of a fact finding mission in Louisiana, and the report that I have now confirms our fears. It might be clearer if I read the newspaper article that initiated the investigation in Louisiana.
“Let me quote you some of the article that came to our attention from a local newspaper in the bayou country of Louisiana: “...we didn’t think too much of them last year because they were small--just flying around and killing other bugs with a ray of light. But this year! Why one was as big as a bat! It killed old Jeb’s dog, killed a rabbit but when it started to eat it, well old Jeb blasted it with his shot-gun. And Jeb’s brother-in-law who lives in the swamp tells of them as big as turkey-buzzards and they can kill an alligator! Do you believer that? One hunted down an alligator and killed it Why he said that there are hundreds of those big ones this year....
The End
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